the riddle of dreams. nadav matalon

8/17/2019 The Riddle of Dreams. Nadav Matalon

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Philosophical Psychology Vol. 24, No. 4, August 2011, 517–536

The riddle of dreams

Nadav Matalon

In The interpretation of dreams Freud famously claimed to have finally solved the

riddle of dreams. Yet amidst all the heated debates and intense controversies that ensued

in the wake of this groundbreaking work, one fundamental question has been entirely

overlooked, namely: in what sense, exactly, are dreams analogous to riddles? It will be theburden of this paper to show that a critical investigation of this seemingly simple question

reveals a fundamental and hereto unnoticed discrepancy between Freud’s rhetoric on his

method of dream interpretation and its application in practice. More specifically,

whereas Freud argues that the psychoanalytic method can effectively solve the riddles

of dreams by uncovering their pre-existing solutions, careful examination reveals that

dream interpretations of this kind are the product of a very different solving technique,

one that proceeds along a retroactive timeline rather than a linear one. Drawing on

Wittgenstein’s distinction between two kinds of riddles and the manner in which they are

solved, I expound on the nature of retroactive riddle-solving, thus generating a distinctly different picture of psychoanalytic dream interpretation than the one envisioned and

advocated by Freud.

Keywords: Dream Interpretation; Freud; Psychoanalysis; Retroactivity; Riddle;

Wittgenstein

In my youth I felt an overpowering need to understand something of the riddles of the world in which we live and perhaps even to contribute something to theirsolution. (Freud, 1926, p. 253)

The riddle does not exist. (Wittgenstein, 1922/1963, section 6.5)

1. Introduction

Echoing young Freud’s aspirations, The interpretation of dreams (Freud, 1900) aims

to unravel one of the most formidable and enduring mysteries of the human mind.

Freud named it ‘‘the riddle of dreams,’’ and rendered its solution the sine qua non of

Correspondence to: Nadav Matalon, Department of Philosophy, King’s College London, Strand, London WC2R

2LS UK E il N d M t l @k l k

Nadav Matalon is a Doctoral Researcher at the Department of Philosophy, King’s College London, UK.


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accurate diagnosis and effective treatment of mental pathologies. ‘‘Anyone who has

failed to explain the origin of dream-images,’’ he exclaimed unequivocally in the

preface to his magnum opus, ‘‘can scarcely hope to understand phobias, obsessions or

delusions or to bring a therapeutic influence to bear on them’’ (Freud, 1900, p. xxiii).The doctrine from which this bold assertion derives has been met with a rainbow of

reactions, spanning from avid enthusiasm to acerbic criticism and everything

in between.1 Yet amidst all the heated debates and intense controversies that ensued

in Interpretation’s wake, one fundamental question has been entirely overlooked,

namely: in what sense, exactly, are dreams analogous to riddles? It will be the burden of

this paper to show that a critical investigation of this seemingly simple question bears

unexpected insights, as well as far-reaching implications, with regard to the Freudian

method of dream interpretation.

I begin this paper with a brief exegesis of the dream-riddle analogy and its unique

status within the Freudian theory of dreams (section 2). I then proceed to examine

the conceptual underpinnings of Freud’s method of dream interpretation, including

its core tenets and tacit assumptions (section 3). Subsequently, in a (seemingly) sharp

transition, I turn to draw on Wittgenstein’s philosophy in order to develop an

important distinction between two kinds of riddles and the manner in which they are

solved (section 4). On the basis of this distinction, I expound on the nature of

retroactive riddle-solving, thereby revealing an important and hereto unnoticed

discrepancy between Freud’s rhetoric on his method of dream interpretation and its

application in practice. Consequently, an entirely new picture of psychoanalytic

dream interpretation emerges, one that significantly diverges from that which wasenvisioned and advocated by Freud (section 5). I end the discussion with a number of

concluding remarks (section 6).

2. Dreams as Riddles of the Psyche

‘What is it that hangs on the wall and that one can dry one’s hands on?’ It would bea stupid riddle if the answer were ‘a hand-towel’. But that answer is rejected.—‘No,a herring.’—‘But for heaven’s sake’, comes the infuriated protest, ‘a herring doesn’thang on the wall.’—‘You can hang it there.’—‘But who in the world is going to dry

his hands on a herring?’—‘Well’, is the soothing reply, ‘you don’t have to.’ (Freud,1905b, p. 215)

The analogy between dreams and riddles, ‘‘like some letter in cipher’’ (Freud, 1900,

p. 135), ‘‘a rebus’’ (p. 277), or ‘‘hieroglyphic script’’ (p. 321), recurs time and again

in The interpretation of dreams. Addressing the works of his predecessors, Freud

maintains that in their writings one finds, ‘‘little or nothing that touches upon the

essential nature of dreams or that offers a final solution of any of their enigmas’’

(1900, p. 1). Elsewhere he asserts that, ‘‘dreams really have a secret meaning’’ (Freud,

1900, p. 146), and that in the absence of an appropriate solving-method, ‘‘all the

conundrums which the authorities [i.e., Freud’s predecessors] have observed indreams would remain unsolved’’ (p. 146). At a later stage, Freud suggests that,

‘‘a dream is a picture puzzle’’ (1900 p 278) and in a similar vein upon recounting

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one of his personal dreams, he proceeds to declare in near exasperation that, ‘‘this

dream exhibits so many . . . puzzling features, indeed, that I would give a great deal to

be able to present the complete solution of its conundrums’’ (p. 422).2

Many similar remarks on the cryptic nature of dreams and the importance of discovering their solution can be found throughout the Freudian corpus.3 It is

therefore rather surprising to learn that Freud offers no explanation with regard to

the exact nature of his dream-riddle simile, nor does he make any attempt to justify it

in any of his writings.4 Could this be merely an oversight on the part of the great

‘‘Unriddler of Riddles’’?5 I highly doubt that it is. Ranked among the most gifted

writers of his time, Freud exercised both precision and care in the application of

rhetorical devices, and his treatment of analogies is no exception to this rule. Having

drawn a comparison between the analyst’s task and that of the chemist or

archeologist, for example, he immediately proceeds to qualify these parallels so as to

clarify their exact explanatory function and avoid unnecessary obfuscation of his

views.6 Evidence of this cautious approach is also available in the form of more

general caveats. Hence, on one occasion Freud himself warns that, ‘‘analogies never

carry one more than a certain distance; a point is soon reached at which the subjects

of the comparison take divergent paths’’ (1926, p. 254); whereas in another he

stipulates that, ‘‘the two objects compared need only coincide at a single point and

may be entirely different from each other in everything else’’ (1919, p. 161). It would

seem quite unlikely that Freud’s emphatic silence on the analogy between dreams and

riddles has been the result of mere carelessness or unintentional omission.

Is there another possible way by which to account for this striking anomaly? As astarting point, I would like to suggest the following thesis. Rather than associating

two distinct entities so as to generate an analogy in the conventional sense, Freud

employs the dream-riddle idiom heuristically. That is, for him, the notion of dreams

qua riddles functions as a meta-theoretical hub which grounds his entire theory of

dreams. Thus construed, the dream-riddle analogy is not merely a convenient

metaphorical idiolect aimed at highlighting certain similarities between two disparate

things—it is a pivotal axiom upon which Freud proceeds to develop his intricate

interpretive method. In short, for Freud, dreams are not like riddles, they are riddles.

These considerations bring us to the heart of the matter. Completely engrossed inhis quest to discover ‘‘the most satisfactory solution of the riddle of dreams’’ (Freud,

1910, p. 34), Freud glosses over the antecedent issue of providing cogent

underpinnings for this particular analogy. Moreover, as I will show in the following

sections, critical perusal of precisely this issue leads to the unavoidable conclusion

that Freud’s account of dream interpretation and the actual application of his

method are ultimately incongruous.

3. The Psychoanalytic Method of Dream Interpretation

The first step is the one that altogether escapes notice. (Wittgenstein, 1953/1999,section 308)

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So far our discussion has focused on the meta-theoretical status of the dream-riddle

idiom in Freud’s conception of dreams. But what makes this simile so natural and

compelling? Why, that is, did it go entirely unnoticed for more than a hundred years?

Taking a closer look at our intuitive attitude toward dreams may help clarify thereasons for this peculiar anomaly. To begin with, conventional wisdom holds that

our dreams are capable of exerting a profound and powerful effect on us (cf.,

Wittgenstein, 1966/1994, pp. 45–46). On occasion, such phenomenal experiences

may even produce the uncanny impression that they were meant to tell us

something—to convey an important message perhaps—yet what that message is and

where it came from often remains shrouded in mystery. Seen in this light, Freud’s

first ingenious move has been to tap into this intuitive source by developing an

elaborate ontology of dreams, one that effectively incorporates their everyday

conception within a sophisticated model of the human psyche.

Broadly speaking, the psychoanalytic theory of dream interpretation is built on the

core assumption that all dreams consist of two distinct, yet closely related,

components. In Freud’s terminology, these are the manifest content and latent content

of the dream. The former denotes the dream-narrative which is consciously

experienced by the dreamer during sleep; whereas the latter designates the real

meaning of the dream, i.e., that which lies hidden (or, more precisely, repressed)

within the unconscious region of the dreamer’s psyche.7 According to Freud, the

relation between these two components is one of disguised representation, that is, the

manifest content of the dream constitutes a distorted reconstruction of its latent

content. Freud calls the process by which the latent content becomes manifest dreamwork , and proceeds to explicate its rationale as follows:

For the dream is one of the roads along which consciousness can be reached by thepsychical material which, on account of the opposition aroused by its content, hasbeen cut off from consciousness and repressed, and has thus become pathogenic.The dream, in short, is one of the détours by which repression can be evaded ; it is oneof the principal means employed by what is known as the indirect method of representation in the mind. (Freud, 1905a, p. 15)

On Freud’s psychogenic model, dreaming constitutes an indirect channel by which

disagreeable and/or distressing materials can bypass the psyche’s defenses and risefrom the dreamer’s unconscious toward her conscious awareness.8 However, en route

to becoming manifest content, the latent content of dreams undergoes a process of

substantial transformation or dream work so as to keep their true meaning hidden.

Hence, according to Freud, dreams can only convey their real meaning indirectly and

it is that particular mode of presentation which effectively renders them riddles of

the psyche.

Webster’s Dictionary (1994) defines a riddle as ‘‘a question or statement so framed

as to exercise one’s ingenuity in answering it or discovering its meaning.’’ This

seemingly plain definition corresponds well with the psychoanalytic approach to

dreams and their inherent aptness for interpretation. Dreams, says Freud, are always

constructed by the psyche with the specific aim of concealing their true significance

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Considerable effort and resilience are therefore required in order to penetrate their

perplexing façades and uncover the real meaning which presumably lies underneath.

This picture, however, is still very vague: it tells us what we are looking for, but not

how to find it. Seen from this perspective, Freud’s second ingenious move has been todevise a systematic procedure for solving the riddle of dreams, or as he himself put it,

‘‘a method by which the unintelligible content of a dream might be replaced by one

that was comprehensible and significant’’ (1900, p. 4). Let us briefly consider what

this procedure involves.

Designed to uncover the dream’s latent content, Freud’s dream interpretation

technique may be broadly described as advancing in three successive steps.9 First, the

manifest content of the dream is dismantled into discrete elements (e.g., people or

objects that appeared in the dream, distinct features of the general scenery, etc.; cf.,

Freud, 1900, pp. 103–104, 449). Second, the dreamer is encouraged to consider each

of these elements and report whatever comes into her mind, regardless of how

embarrassing, irrelevant or unintelligible these ‘‘free associations’’ might strike her

upon reflection.10 And third, with the dreamer’s ‘‘free associations’’ in hand, the

analyst is then able to construct the solution to the dream’s riddle by putting together

the discordant pieces into a coherent and intelligible interpretation (cf., Freud, 1937,

pp. 255–258).

In The interpretation of dreams, Freud likens the psychoanalytic procedure of

dream interpretation to that of solving a rebus (1900, pp. 277–278).11 This parallel is

highly instructive as it points to an important presupposition built into the Freudian

conception of dreams. Presented with a rebus, one naturally assumes that it already has an appropriate solution even if the latter is presently unknown. If it turns out that

it doesn’t, one may plausibly argue that the so-called ‘‘riddle’’ is really nothing more

than a frivolous jest or a hoax. To state this intuition counterfactually: a riddle with

no solution is no riddle at all.

Concurrently, from a psychoanalytic perspective, no matter how obscure, confused

or nonsensical the manifest content of a dream appears to be, it must nevertheless

contain a hidden layer of meaning which is already present within the dreamer’s

unconscious prior to the act of dreaming.12 For Freud, then, it would be impossible to

interpret a dream that has no latent meaning just as it would be impossible to solve a

riddle that has no solution. A dream with no solution, Freud might have said, is no

riddle at all.

4. Two Kinds of Riddles

A puzzle picture. What does it amount to to say that after the solution the picturemeans something to us, whereas it meant nothing before? (Wittgenstein, 1974/1993, p. 27, section 125)

The dream-riddle analogy, then, does not reflect an idiosyncratic figure of speechused by Freud for rhetorical purposes, but a deeply held conviction concerning their

nature and etiological origins As riddles Freud tells us dreams necessarily have



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hidden solutions and it is one of the main tasks of psychoanalysis to bring these

solutions to light. But is the relation between riddles and their solutions always as

simple and straight-forward as we tend to believe? Our intuitive notion of riddles

clearly endorses a positive response to this question. Yet, as philosophers are painfully aware, intuitions can be highly misleading, especially when language comes into play.

Ludwig Wittgenstein, a contemporary of Freud’s and arguably the greatest

philosopher in the 20th century, had an exceptional talent for disrupting

conventional views and standard conceptions. In this respect, his remarks on

riddles—though relatively rare and characteristically opaque—are no different. For

our purpose here, I would like to focus on a particularly useful distinction

Wittgenstein draws between two different kinds of riddles.13 On the one hand are

riddles for which a pre-established solving-method is already in place. This means

that, though one may not know what the correct solution to the riddle might be, one

does know (or at least, one is in a position to learn) how to go about finding it in

a systematic way. Here are two relatively easy examples:

A snail falls to the bottom of a 30 feet well and wants to get out. If it crawls 3 feetup each day, but slips 2 feet down each night, how many days will it take it to getout of the well?

What English word can have 4 of its 5 letters removed and still retain its originalpronunciation?

Discovering the correct solution to these riddles, then, is only a matter of applying

the appropriate method in the correct manner (this is perhaps less obvious in thesecond example, but true nonetheless).14 Hence, while the relevant method may vary

significantly from one riddle to the next, its systematic application serves to

effectively preclude disputes over the identity of the correct solution in each

particular case.

On the other hand, as the preceding discussion suggests, there are also riddles of a

very different kind, namely: those for which no predefined solving-method currently

exists. Trying to solve such riddles is ‘‘like trying to move one’s ears when one has

never done so, like trying to unravel a knot which one does not even know is actually

a knot’’ (Diamond, 1995, p. 267). One is literally ‘‘groping in the dark,’’ as

Wittgenstein (1974/1993, p. 175) once put it, since one is not only searching for thecorrect solution, but also for the route by which that solution might actually be

obtained. Riddles of this kind, Wittgenstein explains, are:

Like the problem set by the king in the fairy tale who told the princess to comeneither naked nor dressed, and she came wearing fishnet. That might have beencalled not naked and yet not dressed either. He didn’t really know what he wantedher to do, but when she came thus he was forced to accept it. It was of the form‘‘Do something that I shall be inclined to call ‘neither naked nor dressed’ . . . [thatis,] some-thing which I shall be inclined to accept as a solution, though I don’tknow now what it will be like.’’ (Cited in Diamond, 1995, p. 267)15

Prima facie, it certainly appears as if the king has presented the princess with a

straight forward riddle However as Wittgenstein points out in the above quoted

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remark, when the king commands the princess to come before him ‘‘neither naked

nor dressed,’’ not only does he not know how this particular feat might be

accomplished—a fortiori, he has good reasons to assume that it is virtually an

impossible task.16

Two questions immediately suggest themselves in this context:(a) if the king’s riddle was deliberately designed so as to have no solution, what (if

anything) makes it into a riddle? And (b) in the absence of a pre-established solving-

method for this riddle how did the princess achieve the seemingly impossible feat of

actually solving it? On Wittgenstein’s view, these perplexing questions arise from our

erroneous tendency to conflate riddles of the first and second kinds by subsuming all

riddles under the former while overlooking the latter. Simply put, we intuitively

presuppose that for every riddle there must already be a legitimate solution, as well as

an appropriate solving-method, even if they are presently unknown to us.

From a philosophical perspective, the intuitive inclination to regard all riddles as

riddles of the first kind bears significant implications. To see why this is so, let us

return to the fairytale once more. To begin with, recall that when he first presented

his riddle, the king had neither a solution nor solving-method to accommodate his

unconventional demand. This point is crucial because it enables us to recognize that

the original paradoxical utterance—‘‘neither naked nor dressed’’—has actually

become meaningful only in retrospect. That is to say, rather than discovering the

so-called ‘‘hidden meaning’’ of the king’s riddle, the princess has effectively

transformed it, ex post facto, from an essentially nonsensical utterance into a

meaningful one via her solution. As Cora Diamond aptly puts it, ‘‘the prin-

cess. . .

does not find something satisfying a description [put forward by the king],but a way of making the king’s words into a description [italics added]’’ (1995,

p. 270).17 And to that, it is important to add, she does so retroactively .

But if the king’s original utterance has gained its sense only in retrospect, why are

we predisposed to treat it as meaningful right from the start? More explicitly stated:

why does the expression ‘‘neither naked nor dressed’’ seem to convey a meaningful

indirect description even before one is able to say what exactly it is that this expression

purports to describe? The root of the problem, says Wittgenstein, can be traced back

to the structural similarity between language-games of the particular kind discussed

here (i.e., the king’s riddle) and other, more familiar language-games commonly used

in everyday discourse.18

Consider, for illustration, a person who asks her friend: ‘‘come neither before nor

after the scheduled time.’’ It is safe to assume that, in this colloquial context, both

interlocutors already know what sort of action would comply with the speaker’s

request. As such, the said utterance conveys a meaningful indirect description precisely

because the criteria for its legitimate employment have been previously defined by

shared linguistic and behavioral standards. (In this case, the expectation that one

would come precisely on time.) Now, although the king’s riddle portrays a similar

‘‘neither-nor’’ syntactic structure, it is important to notice that the meaning of the

king’s original utterance (i.e., its appropriate discursive application) has not beenspecified by pre-established criteria prior to its presentation. Hence, despite its

misleading appearance the king’s utterance and the princess’s solution work jointly



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to create a completely different language-game, one that cannot be considered an

indirect description of anything prior to its successful completion.

At this juncture, the following objection would seem highly plausible: even if the

relevant criteria for solving a particular riddle have not been predefined, why shouldthis prevent us from trying to solve it anyway? Surely one is entitled to claim: ‘‘I shall

know the correct solution if I see it’’ (cf., Wittgenstein, 1976, p. 84), even if one has

no idea how to go about looking for it. This may seem like a legitimate claim;

however, it is very misleading. The assertion that one would be able to recognize the

correct solution if the latter was made available to her rests on the presupposition

that the correct solution has already been determined prior to, or in tandem with, the

presentation of the riddle. And yet, while this assumption is completely justified with

relation to riddles of the first kind, it is essentially unwarranted when it comes to

riddles of the second kind. The argument which merits this claim runs as follows. To

begin with, note that the identity of the correct solution can only be determined on

the basis of some criterion or other. Hence, in the absence of any criterion by which

to evaluate putative solutions, the question of their correctness (or incorrectness)

cannot even be raised. That is, as long as what would be considered an appropriate

criterion has not been established, there is simply no sense in talking about correct

(or incorrect) solutions at all.

Reviewing the possibility of using guesswork as means for finding the correct

solution would help clarify this point. Presented with either kind of riddle, one can

obviously try and guess what the solution should be. Nevertheless, once again our

indiscriminate use of language is liable to obscure an important distinction betweenthe two cases. In the context of riddles of the first kind, determining whether or not

a haphazard guess has been successful in hitting its mark constitutes a relatively

straight-forward affair given that the relevant criteria for evaluation are already in

place. In contrast, speculation over the correctness of a solution to riddles of the

second kind involves a markedly different procedure. The basic argument that

underlies this contention is very similar to the one presented in the previous

paragraph. And so, to avoid unnecessary repetition, I would like to further explore

this issue by offering a concrete illustration instead.

Consider the Sphinx’s riddle to Oedipus: ‘‘what walks upon four feet in the

morning, upon two at noon, and upon three at night?’’ Our intuition tells us that itmust be possible to rule-out putative solutions in advance. But is this really the case?

Let us assume that, weighing his options, Oedipus ponders whether ‘‘a human being’’

might be the correct response. But then, as soon as this idea crosses his mind, he is

forced to reject it since arguably humans typically walk on two feet, or in some cases,

just one, but never on three. Thus, in the absence of a pre-established criterion for the

evaluation of tentative solutions, Oedipus finds himself compelled to use an ad hoc

criterion (‘‘on how many feet do humans ordinarily walk?’’) in order to discard what,

in retrospect , will turn out to be the correct solution.

Moreover, we can easily imagine someone who has been told the solution to theSphinx’s riddle and yet still struggles to understand what qualifies it as the correct

solution Alternatively that person may insist that the proposed solution is wrong

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and proceed to offer an alternative solution in its stead. In all these cases the

proposed solution and the criteria for its correctness go hand in hand. And in all

these cases, they jointly work to give meaning to the original utterance in retrospect.

It thus becomes apparent that, despite the temptation to view the Sphinx’s riddleas a meaningful indirect description of something hidden or unknown, the

monster’s enigmatic utterance actually remains meaningless so long as an acceptable

solution—and, concurrently, the criteria for its correctness—have not been

determined (cf., Wittgenstein, 1974/1993, p. 377).

Here, however, another objection may be forthcoming. Why, it may be asked,

should we regard the Sphinx’s riddle (or that of the king) as meaningless prior to its

solution? After all, are we not able to understand riddles of this kind regardless of

whether or not an appropriate solution has been found? Reasonable and intuitive as

this objection may appear, it cannot be coherently upheld for the following reasons.

Imagine someone who has been presented with the king’s riddle for the first time

and subsequently proceeds to insist that she understands the utterance ‘‘neither

naked nor dressed’’ perfectly well despite the fact that she does not have a clue as to

what it is meant to describe. The question is what would such ‘‘understanding’’

consist in? To assert that the king’s utterance is indeed a description without being

able to specify what it is ‘‘a description of’’ clearly begs the question. Likewise, that

one understands, and can therefore explain, the meaning of each particular word in

that utterance is of no help either. It is the utterance as a whole that requires making

sense of, not each of its distinct constituents, and to accomplish that, one would have

to put the entire utterance into some kind of context. That is, the person in questionwould have to find one or more conventionally accepted language-games in which

the utterance may be legitimately used. Yet, any attempt to do just that means that

one has perforce assumed the role of the princess, i.e., one is already engaged in the

process of generating her own solution to the king’s riddle by specifying the criteria

that will retroactively turn it into a meaningful description.

Another way of explicating this counterintuitive point may be as follows. As noted

above, we naturally assume that all riddles constitute an obscure or indirect

description of something which is not yet known. This picture certainly works well

with riddles of the first kind wherein it is possible to employ pre-established criteria

in order to determine the identity of correct solutions. However, in the case of riddlesof the second kind the situation is markedly different since there are no criteria by

which to distinguish between correct and incorrect solutions before the riddle has

actually been solved. Consequently, it turns out that, although riddles of the second

kind are typically taken to convey ambiguous or indirect descriptions, the fact of

the matter is that they only create the grammatical illusion of fulfilling this role.

To see this, ask yourself what ought to be considered the equivalent, direct

description of the king’s utterance before the riddle was solved ? As there are no

generally accepted criteria by which to perform this judgment, the question itself

turns out to be meaningless (cf., Wittgenstein, 1976, pp. 64–65, 1974/1993, pp. 363–364). Hence, rather than constituting an indirect description whose meaning has

been fixed in advance the king’s utterance actually consists in what may be called a



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provisional description, namely: a meaningless utterance that may be converted into a

meaningful description by the provision of a solution that will retroactively specify the

appropriate criterion for its own legitimacy.

To recapitulate the foregoing discussion, two key points should be borne in mind:(a) unlike riddles of the first kind, in the case of riddles of the second kind, on top of

not knowing what the correct solution should be, we do not even know how to go

about looking for it. Thus, the only criterion serving to guide our attempts at solving

riddles of the latter kind is captured by the counterintuitive dictum: ‘‘show me

something I can accept as fulfilling the terms of the riddle’’; and, (b) despite their

misleading appearance, riddles of the second kind are not meaningful indirect

descriptions whose meaning has been determined in advance. Rather, they consist of

provisional descriptions that may be transformed into meaningful descriptions by the

espousal of solutions that retroactively specify the appropriate criteria for their

acceptance.

5. Turning Dreams into Riddles

A writer is someone who can make a riddle out of an answer. (Karl Kraus)

If we apply the above analysis to dreams, it becomes patently clear that Freud takes

their manifest content to be riddles of the first kind. Nevertheless, whereas riddles

of this kind require pre-established criteria for the purpose of judging the correctness

of putative solutions, Freud does not place similar restrictions on his dreaminterpretation technique. More explicitly stated, throughout the course of formu-

lating the dream’s interpretation, the psychoanalytic procedure is methodologically

unbound by any constraint whatsoever. Consequently, the psychoanalytic method

may indeed yield fascinating dream interpretations, but it does not determine their

correctness (or otherwise) in advance. To circumvent this methodological discrepancy,

Freud resorts to different criteria at different times: from the patient’s espousal of the

proposed interpretation, to the coherence of the interpretation per se, to the

authoritative verdict of the analyst. Neither sufficient nor necessary in themselves,

these disparate criteria are employed ad hoc so as to determine, in retrospect , what the

correct interpretation should be (cf., Wittgenstein, 1966/1994, p. 42).19

Pinpointing Freud’s failure to supply definitive criteria by which to judge the

correctness of dream interpretations prior to their actual formulation is of vital

importance since it allows us to recognize psychoanalytic dream interpretations for

what they really are, namely: solutions to riddles of the second kind . That is to say,

rather than revealing the latent content of dreams, Freud’s interpretive procedure

works in the opposite direction: it is the psychoanalytic interpretation that serves to

retroactively convert the manifest content of a dream into the riddle it is purporting

to solve.20

In the terminology developed here, when the analysand discusses the manifestcontent of her dream with the analyst, she is not putting forth a meaningful indirect

description whose meaning has already been settled by commonly accepted criteria

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Instead, she may be seen as presenting the analyst with a provisional description,

i.e., a collection of utterances which may be turned into a riddle after its solution has

been duly constructed and accepted. The analysand and analyst thus find themselves

in the same position as the king and the princess only in reversed roles: the analysandis the one who asks the analyst: ‘‘show me something that I can accept as the solution

to the riddle of my dream’’, to which the analyst then responds by constructing

an interpretation that will strike the analysand as the correct one. Hence, it may be

said that Freud does not solve the riddle of the analysand’s dream, but rather,

he retroactively renders her dream into a riddle by means of synthesizing her free

associations into a highly persuasive interpretive narrative.21

The main upshot of the retroactive ascription of meaning to the dream’s manifest

content is clear: no latent or hereto unknown etiological structure in the dreamer’s

psyche was necessarily discovered by means of the psychoanalytic interpretation.22

Strange and counterintuitive as it may sound, the fact that dreams are somehow

caused (presumably as a result of complex neural processes in the brain) is entirely

beside the point.23 Nor is the high level of creativity which Freud often exhibits in

formulating some of his more ingenious dream interpretations relevant to these

considerations.24 What is crucial to recognize is that as convincing solutions,

psychoanalytic dream interpretations can retroactively convert the manifest content

of dreams into riddles of the second kind, that is, they are capable of turning

inexplicable phenomenal experiences into riddles that may actually be solved.

This picture of psychoanalytic dream interpretation sheds light on another

controversial aspect of the Freudian modus operandi. One of Freud’s primary assumptions is that every dream has only one correct interpretation. To justify this

tenet, Freud evokes the jigsaw puzzle metaphor, stating that:

What makes him [the analyst] certain [that the correct solution has beenfound] . . . is precisely the complication of the problem before him, which is like thesolution of a jig-saw puzzle . . . . If one succeeds in arranging the confused heap of fragments, each of which bears upon it an unintelligible piece of drawing, so thatthe picture acquires a meaning, so that there is no gap anywhere in the design andso that the whole fits into the frame . . . then one knows that one has solved the

puzzle and that there is no alternative solution [italics added]. (Freud, 1923, p. 116)

Following the rationale of riddles of the first kind, the motivation behind Freud’sanalogy can be easily identified. If every dream constitutes the disguised represen-

tation of a particular tacit wish, then only the correct interpretation will be able to

point back to that wish. Hence, if Freud is right, a dream can only have one correct

solution. On the other hand, construed as riddles of the second kind, dreams may

have anything from none to infinite legitimate solutions, seeing as their correctness

is not determined in advance, but rather, in retrospect. To illustrate this point, let us

revisit the king’s riddle one last time.

Recall that in the fairytale, the princess’s solution consisted of shrouding herself in

a fisherman’s net. Nevertheless, it is certainly possible to imagine the princess comingup with different yet equally legitimate solutions. For example, she could have come

to the king wrapped only in her long hair The point is that in contrast with riddles



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of the first kind, the specific character of putative solutions to riddles of the second

kind does not influence their legitimacy. The only thing which really matters is that

the interlocutor (the king in the fairytale or the analysand in Freud’s care) would be

willing to espouse the proposed solution and as a result retroactively convert theoriginal utterance or image-narrative into a meaningful indirect description that

appears to have been concealing its true identity from the start.25 As Wallerstein

correctly observes:

Skilled psychoanalytic clinicians can construct differing, but often equally compel-ling, formulations of psychoanalytic case material and . . . no ready method toestablish the truth claims of alternative formulations has yet come to win wideacceptance within the clinical psychoanalytic world. (Wallerstein, 2006, p. 304)26

At first glance it may appear as if the above analysis leads to the unpalatable

conclusion that as far as psychoanalytic dream interpretations are concerned‘‘anything goes.’’ In other words, it may be tempting to conclude that the retroactive

model effectively reduces Freud’s dream interpretations to arbitrary constructions

forced on the analysand by the analyst in an act of brute persuasion. However, closer

examination shows that this conclusion is ultimately unjustified. In the first place, we

should keep in mind that neither dreams nor their psychoanalytic interpretations can

be detached from the analysand’s life (cf., Freud, 1900, pp. 98–100, 105; Lear, 2005,

pp. 90–92). As such, the particular life-circumstances of the latter constitute a general

referential framework which imposes significant restraints on the retroactive

evaluation of putative interpretations. Simply put, psychoanalytic dream interpre-

tations are typically formulated within the wider and idiosyncratic context of the

analysand’s world and it is precisely this context which provides the backdrop against

which their correctness is retrospectively assessed.

Furthermore, we should also take into account that the analyst does not introduce

dream interpretations for their own sake but as a catalyst for pushing the analysis

forward. More specifically, via dream interpretations the analyst aims to enable the

analysand to explore new ways of self-understanding. As already noted above, from

Freud’s perspective, this goal may be actualized only if the analysand can be brought

to overcome the barriers of repression and recognize the so-called ‘‘true meaning’’ of

her dreams. However, if dream interpretations represent solutions to riddles of thesecond kind, then the question of their correctness cannot be determined in advance.

In other words, any attempt to impose restrictions on what would be considered the

correct solution prior to its formulation will inevitably founder since the solution

itself serves to define the criteria for its own legitimacy in retrospect. But if this is

indeed the case, how can we counter the claim that ‘‘anything goes’’? The answer lies

in the realization that, as we are dealing here with an inverse time-line wherein

meaning is ascribed retroactively, restrictions on the legitimacy of dream interpre-

tations need not (and, in fact, cannot) be imposed in advance.27 However, they can

be imposed retroactively provided one is willing to relinquish absolute conceptions of pre-determined ‘‘correctness’’ and ‘‘truth’’ in favor of relative and time-dependent

notions like ‘‘efficacy’’ and ‘‘consequence ’’ By taking dream interpretations to be

528 N. Matalon


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tools for self-examination and development within the analytic setting, the real

question becomes whether or not they actually succeed in serving their purpose,

i.e., whether, and to what extent, they enable the analysand to engage with—or,

as Freud liked to say, ‘‘work-through’’—new possibilities of self-understanding(cf., Freud, 1914b, 1937). Somewhat ironically, Freud himself made precisely this

point in ‘‘Constructions in Analysis,’’ when he wrote,

Only the further course of the analysis enables us to decide whether ourconstructions are correct or unserviceable. We do not pretend that an individualconstruction is anything more than a conjecture which awaits examination,confirmation or rejection. We claim no authority for it, we require no directagreement from the patient, nor do we argue with him if at first he denies it. Inshort, we conduct ourselves on the model of a familiar figure in one of Nestroy’sfarces—the manservant who has a single answer on his lips to every question or

objection: ‘It will all become clear in the course of future developments’ [italicsadded]. (1937, p. 265).

Hence, as Freud himself openly concedes in the passage just quoted, it is only by

examining the actual effects that the dream interpretation has on the analysand that

one is able to evaluate its correctness. In other words, there are indeed no pre-

established criteria by which the correctness of the psychoanalytic interpretation may

be asserted prior to its formulation, and whilst particular restrictions (e.g., the

correspondence of the interpretation to the analysand’s life) may certainly be applied,

their application as means for evaluating the correctness of a given dream

interpretation is always carried out in retrospect.

6. Concluding Remarks

If you are led by psycho-analysis to say that really you thought so and so or thatreally your motive was so and so, this is not a matter of discovery, but of persuasion . . . . One thinks of certain results of psycho-analysis as a discovery Freudmade, as apart from something persuaded to you by a psycho-analyst, and I wishto say this is not the case. (Wittgenstein, 1966/1994, p. 27)

The argument presented in this paper endeavored to show that a fundamental

discrepancy exists between Freud’s rhetoric on his method of dream interpretationand its application in practice. Taking dreams to be riddles of the first kind, Freud

claims to have formulated an efficient solving-method by which their correct

solutions can be found. Hence, on Freud’s account, psychoanalytic interpretations

chart the real and therefore the only possible route from a dream’s manifest content

to the tacit wish it presumably conceals.28 Nevertheless, for all its intuitive appeal,

this conception cannot be reconciled with the retroactive mode of operation Freud

actually employs in order to determine what ought to be considered the correct

interpretation of a particular dream.29 The absence of pre-established criteria for the

evaluation of putative solutions prior to their formulation suggests that Freud’sdream interpretation technique actually represents a solving-method to riddles of the

second kind Thus construed Freud’s methodology effectively transforms provisional



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descriptions of dream-narratives into indirect meaningful descriptions of latent wishes

via the construction of persuasive dream interpretations. These interpretations, in

turn, gain verisimilitude and potential efficacy not because they necessarily reveal

latent or unconscious materials, but rather, because they are accepted as such. Atbottom line, Freud does not simply solve the riddle of dreams; he retroactively turns

dreams into riddles by producing highly convincing solutions to them.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks to Daniele Moyal-Sharrock and two anonymous reviewers at

Philosophical Psychology for extensive commentaries and discussions on previous

versions of this paper. I am also grateful to Frank Cioffi, Jim Hopkins, Derek Bolton,

Rai Gaita, and Eran Guter for valuable suggestions and critique. The preparation of this paper has benefited from the generous support of the AVI Fellowships program.

Notes

[1] Although there has certainly been a steady decline in the status and practice of

psychoanalysis in the past sixty years or so (Kandel, 1999; Wallerstein, 2006), heated

debates over Freud’s theory of dreams are still very much alive among contemporary

researchers. One prominent example consists of the vigorous controversy in the field of

neuropsychology between pro-Freudian commentators (Kandel, 1999; Shevrin & Eister,

2000; Solms, 2000, 2001; Solms & Turnbull, 2002, 2007) and their opponents (Hobson,2005, 2007; Hobson & Pace-Schott, 2002; Hobson, Pace-Schott, & Stickgold, 2000) on the

genesis and nature of dreams.

[2] For further examples, see Freud, 1900, pp. 40, 94, 158, 163, 267, 515, 565, 590.

[3] See, e.g., Freud’s comments on the subject of finding, ‘‘a simple and satisfactory solution of

the riddle of dreams’’ (Freud, 1901, p. 646), or even more ambitiously, ‘‘the most

satisfactory solution of the riddle of dreams’’ (Freud, 1910, p. 34). Remarks of a similar

nature also appear in many other works by Freud (1901, pp. 633, 635, 640, 643, 651, 658,

680, 1911a, p. 93, 1916–1917, pp. 101, 201, 233–234, 1918, p. 70, 1923, p. 116, 1925b,

pp. 127, 135).

[4] Freud’s comparison between the solution of dreams and that of jigsaw puzzles (1923, p. 116)

might be construed as an exception to this general claim. However, as I will show in section

5, Freud’s discussion in this context appears to enhance rather than resolve the discrepancy

between his rhetoric on dream interpretation and its actual application.

[5] This perceptive epithet was originally attributed to Freud by Schorske (1973) in his ‘‘Politics

and practice in Freud’s Interpretation of dreams.’’

[6] These analogies appear in Freud (1919, pp. 159–161) and Freud (1937, pp. 259–260),

respectively.

[7] According to Freud’s theory of dreams, the said ‘‘hidden meaning’’ ordinarily consists of a

repressed wish that the dreamer is unwilling or unable to fulfil in the course of waking life

due to its disagreeable or distressing nature (cf., Freud, 1900, p. 122, 1901, p. 641, 1910,

pp. 34–35, 1940, pp. 165–166).

[8] On Freud’s early topographical model, the psyche’s defense mechanism ( Zensur ) functions

as a kind of partition (Schrim) that prevents repressed materials from gaining access toconsciousness. However, under certain conditions (e.g., sleep or hypnosis) the mechanism’s

control is diminished thereby allowing some repressed content to pass albeit in disguised

530 N. Matalon


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form. Later on, during the transition to his later structural model, Freud revised this notion

by shifting from an abstract mechanism to a more structured aspect of the super-ego (cf.,

Freud, 1900, pp. 141–144, 466–468, 505–506, 1914a, pp. 97–98, 1923, p. 112).

[9] I shall restrict the following presentation to a very rudimentary sketch of Freud’s dream

interpretation technique since it is all that is needed to make my case here. However, it isimportant to note that this schema should be construed as pedagogical rather than

diachronic given that in actual practice the particular steps involved in this technique

often interrelate and coalesce with one another throughout the analysis (cf., Freud, 1937,

pp. 260–261).

[10] Freud has famously taken the ‘‘free associations’’ (Freier Einfall ) technique to represent the

‘‘fundamental rule of psycho-analysis’’ (1910, p. 39, 1913, pp. 134–135, 1925a, p. 40).

Notice, however, that the English translation of this term is rather misleading since, as Freud

himself notes, ‘‘we must bear in mind . . . that free association is not really free’’ (1925a,

p. 40). The reason for this, according to Freud, is that even though the dreamer’s train of

thought may appear to proceed spontaneously (i.e., without conscious control or intentional

guidance), it is nevertheless deterministically guided by her unconscious (e.g., Freud, 1900,p. 101, 1919, p. 160).

[11] The point may be easily illustrated by a simple example. Consider the puzzling expression:

‘‘CUL8ER.’’ At first glance, this odd string of signs would probably strike most of us as

utterly meaningless. However, by concentrating our attention on each discrete sign, while

concurrently keeping an eye on its immediate interrelations with the other signs, sooner or

later this procedure will (hopefully) yield the realization that the key to this riddle lies in

reading the signs phonetically rather than semantically, thereby revealing the colloquial

expression ‘‘see you later.’’

[12] In his later writings, Freud qualified his original claim about the hidden meaning of dreams

by stipulating that there are two types of dreams which do not represent latent wishes,

namely: dreams that occur in traumatic neurosis and so-called punishment dreams (cf.,Freud, 1923, p. 118). Notice, however, that in these cases, the psychoanalytic procedure of

dream interpretation becomes redundant as the meaning of the dream is assumed to be

directly perceivable.

[13] Wittgenstein’s remarks on what is generally referred to here as ‘‘riddles’’ typically appear

within the broader context of his discussions on the nature of mathematical problems

(cf., Wittgenstein, 1953/1999, sections 334–338 & 352, 1956/1998, p. 370, 1967/1998, p. 120,

1974/1993, pp. 361–365, 1975/1998, pp. 184–191, 1976, pp. 64–68 & 83–86). However,

the core distinction which these remarks serve to delineate can be easily extended to

other domains as Wittgenstein himself indicates in his 1956/1998 (p. 370) and 1974/1993

(pp. 363–364). An extrapolation of this kind appears in Diamond (1995).

[14] The solutions to these riddles are ‘‘28 days’’ and ‘‘queue’’ respectively. As to the first riddle,

basic arithmetic is all that is really required in order to calculate the correct solution

(provided one does not fail to notice that by the 28th day the snail has only 3 feet left to

cover and therefore arrives to the edge of the well). The second riddle requires a more

sophisticated approach. The key is to notice that after 4 of the word’s 5 letters have been

removed only one remains. At this point, one can simply recite the letters of the ABC out

loud whilst keeping a vigilant ear for legitimate English words. After rejecting inadmissible

possibilities like ‘‘bee’’ and ‘‘see’’ on the basis of having an insufficient number of letters,

the correct solution is inevitably reached.

[15] This quote originally appeared in Margaret Macdonald’s notes to Wittgenstein’s lectures in

1935 which have not been published yet. The fairytale to which Wittgenstein is alluding in

his above-quoted remark is most likely ‘‘The Clever Farmer’s Daughter.’’ A common version

of this fairytale appears in Grimm & Grimm (1987, pp. 347–349). Wittgenstein’s remark isdiscussed, inter alia, in Diamond & Gerrard (1999, p. 142), Floyd (1995, p. 394), and

Putnam (2000 pp 224 225)



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[16] That the king has formulated his challenge with the deliberate intention of failing the

princess is made evident by the explicitly paradoxical nature of his riddle. It is, as Putnam

puts it, ‘‘a command impossible of fulfillment’’ (2000, p. 224), whose explicit aim was to

annul the possibility of producing a legitimate solution (or so the king initially believed).

[17] Putnam makes the same point by saying: ‘‘we are able to give the [king’s] words a sense only after [italics added] we know the solution; the solution bestows sense on the riddle-

question’’ (2000, p. 224).

[18] In Wittgenstein’s memorable words, ‘‘we remain unconscious of the prodigious diversity of

all the everyday language-games because the clothing of our language makes everything

alike’’ (1953/1999, p. 224). Furthermore, following Read’s (2005) well-argued caveat against

the off-handed deployment of so-called Wittgensteinian ‘‘magic words,’’ note that I do not

employ the term ‘‘language-game’’ in some sort of highly specialized technical sense

allegedly specified by the great philosopher (it was not, as section 65 in his 1953/1999 makes

patently clear), but rather in the widest and most mundane possible sense, that is, as a

convenient abbreviation for denoting any kind of linguistic activity (including paralinguistic

features and extralinguistic markers) taking place between two or more interlocutors for thepurpose of communication.

[19] It is important to note in this context that the issue here is not that Freud’s criteria are

vague or ambiguous in themselves. The fact that a particular criterion is vague does not

imply that one cannot employ it effectively. Rather, the point is that for Freud the question

of which criterion should be used remains open until after an acceptable solution has

been presented. It is a different kind of ambiguity similar to the one with which the

princess was faced when contemplating the king’s riddle. The difficulty in that case was

not how or to what degree should a pre-defined criterion be applied, but rather, the

challenge of generating a solution that will retroactively define the criterion for its own

correctness.

[20] It is important to emphasize that the current analysis is strictly descriptive and notprescriptive, i.e., it should not be taken to suggest that the Freudian doctrine requires some

kind of ‘‘correction’’ or ‘‘reform.’’ As I shall explicate later on, construed as solutions to

riddles of the second kind, the efficacy of psychoanalytic dream interpretations need not

depend on their particular character, but rather on the analysand’s willingness to accept

them as correct and work through their implications.

[21] It is noteworthy that Freud was not only familiar with the notion of retroactive processes,

but actually coined the German term ‘ Nachträ glichkeit ’ to denote their manifestation in the

psychological domain. Typically translated as ‘‘deferred action’’ and featuring, inter alia,

in the case studies of ‘‘Emma’’ (Freud, 1895) and the ‘‘Wolf-man’’ (Freud, 1918),

‘ Nachträ glichkeit ’ is thus used by Freud to portray an inverse and counterintuitive time-

structure wherein earlier events in the analysand’s life gain new significance in light of later

events. Despite its striking similarity to the psychoanalytic procedure of dream interpre-

tation as explicated here, it is clear why Freud would not have been willing to apply the logic

of this retroactive model to his entire modus operandi. To do so, he would have had to

relinquish the foundational axioms of his theory of dreams, most central of which is the

assumption that the solution of a dream (i.e., its latent meaning) exists prior to and

independently of the acts of dreaming and/or interpretation. Furthermore, as in the case of

‘‘free associations,’’ here too the English translation is somewhat misleading inasmuch as the

term ‘‘deferred action’’ completely obfuscates the most important aspect of these

psychological processes, namely: their retroactive mode of functioning. The term ‘‘retro-

activity,’’ suggested by Puhl (2004), thus appears to be a more suitable translation in this

context. Also on this topic, see Laplanche and Pontalis (1973, pp. 111–114).

[22] In his recent work on Freud, Lear endeavors to show that this tenet is actually consonantwith later developments in Freud’s conception of dream interpretation (cf., Lear, 2005,

pp 101 104 133 135)

532 N. Matalon


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[23] This claim is more modest than it may appear. The realization that psychoanalytic

interpretations constitute solutions to riddles of the second kind does not preclude the

possibility that they could actually succeed in hitting upon the so-called ‘‘psychological

etiology’’ of the dream. On the contrary, it is conceivable, in principle at least, that the

analyst’s interpretation may perfectly coincide with the genuine cognitive processes fromwhich a dream originated (assuming, of course, that these processes are taken to be

recognizable and definable). The point is that, as it stands, there is nothing in the

psychoanalytic procedure that can be used to show whether or not that is indeed the case.

Hence, we can certainly speculate what might have been the underlying reasons which

brought forth the dream, and we may even become utterly convinced that we have found the

right ones, but all this is still a far cry from being able to guarantee that our speculations are

necessarily true as Freud purports to do.

[24] This is not to say that the formulation of solutions to riddles of the second kind in general,

or psychoanalytic dream interpretations in particular, has nothing to do with creative

thinking. In fact, it is probably safe to assume that imagination and creativity play a pivotal

role in the construction of such solutions. Nevertheless, we should bear in mind that,regardless of how inspired a particular solution may be, it cannot be considered a solution at

all prior to its recognition as such. Put in a slightly different way, though there is certainly

room for disagreement on whether or not a particular solution is adequate, it is important to

notice that debates of this kind can only take place after the putative solution has been

actually posited. Hence, for example, one could surely criticize the king for lack of

imagination had he refused to accept the creative solution offered by the princess. Yet,

polemics of this kind already presuppose that what the princess has done indeed represents a

solution.

[25] ‘‘We are agreed on this route,’’ Wittgenstein says in this context, but hastens to add, ‘‘and

yet, it is obvious here that there may easily be different routes, on each of which we can be in

agreement, each of which we might call consistent’’ (1956/1998, p. 370). Furthermore,spelling out the far-reaching implications this model entails with respect to the potential

efficacy of psychoanalytic interpretations is a complicated issue I intend to develop in a

future publication. For the moment, I can therefore only hint at these implications by saying

that the ability of psychoanalytic interpretations to retroactively transform incomprehen-

sible symptoms into meaningful—and thus fully intelligible and soluble—psychological

accounts may have a profound effect on analysands who are haunted by feelings of

frustration and helplessness deriving from their hereto inexplicable condition.

[26] For concrete instances of this diagnostic ‘‘Rashomon Effect,’’ compare, e.g., Freud (1918)

with Abraham and Torok (1986), and Freud (1911b) with Macalpine and Hunter (1953).

Also see in this context Wittgenstein (1953/1999, sections 139–141).

[27] The impossibility of using ad hoc criteria so as to determine in advance what would be

considered the correct solution to riddles of the second kind is discussed in section 4.

[28] Readers acquainted with emergent trends in psychoanalytic research during the second half

of the 20th century may recognize certain affinities between my account of Freudian dream

interpretation and that of the so-called ‘‘hermeneutic’’ movement in psychoanalysis

(Wallerstein, 2006, pp. 308–309). Particularly pertinent in this context is the controversial

conception developed by Donald P. Spence in a long series of books and articles (cf., Spence,

1981, 1982, 1983a, 1983b, 1986, 1991, 2001). Briefly, on Spence’s view, psychoanalytic

interpretations do not represent ‘‘historical truths,’’ that is, faithful reconstructions of actual

past events in the analysand’s life, but rather, ‘‘narrative truths,’’ i.e., creative constructions

of compelling hypothetical ‘‘stories’’ that the analysand may be persuaded to accept.

Nevertheless, it is important to notice that, despite his bold attempt to break from more

traditional conceptions, Spence’s position remains well entrenched within the boundariesof conventional psychoanalytic wisdom since he continues to adhere to the Freudian axiom

according to which dreams are essentially riddles of the first kind viz enigmatic



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phenomenal experiences whose hidden meanings exist prior to and independently of the acts

of either dreaming or interpretation. Though much more can and should be said about the

hermeneutic approach to psychoanalytic interpretations and the manner in which it relates

to the thesis presented here, a comprehensive explication of these issues would be the task of

another occasion.[29] I would like to emphasize that my aim in this paper is not to disparage psychoanalysis, nor is

it to engage in what Jonathan Lear calls ‘‘Freud-bashing’’ (1998, pp. 17, 54–55). As Lear and

other commentators have shown, there is still much to be said about Freud’s invaluable

contributions to, and lasting impact on, the study of human psychology. This, however,

should not detract us from challenging deep-seated assumptions and commonly held beliefs

about dreams and the psychoanalytic method of their interpretations.

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